The Circle of Life

Last week, I wrote about my first up-close experience with death in Africa.  Well it appears as though that was only the beginning.  God decided this week to give me several lessons about the circle of life (cue The Lion King instrumental).  Two days after the death of Nora’s mother, I held a brand-new-born baby, and five days later, there was a sudden funeral that hit very close to home.

The Tiny Miracle

After mass on Sunday, I tagged along with a group of girls to visit their friend Joice¹ (my former student/footballer) and her newborn baby.  We crammed into her house and took turns holding the precious little angel who was – get this – only 24 hours old!  When I took her into my arms, I was completely unprepared for my reaction.  I was instantly captivated, entranced, and mesmerized, my gaze held hostage by the tiny (tiny!) pale face in front of me.  A surge of love rushed through me like an electric shock, and my eyes welled with tears.  A haze of awe surrounded me, and the other people in the room faded from my vision, their voices quelled into silence.  “What is happening?” I thought.  “I love kids and all, but babies have never made me feel anything like this.  This is amazing!  God’s craftsmanship is... I mean, just… this baby girl is pure perfection.”  Hercules with all his might couldn’t have turned my face away from the precious life I held.  I was intensely aware of the miracle that God had gifted to the world, and my mind swirled round and round thinking of the spiritual significance of what I was holding – pure potential for whatever God has in His great plan for the world.

Being exactly where I was, seeing/feeling/experiencing exactly what I was, was nothing short of sublime.  There was no doubt in my mind that a serious slice of Heaven had fluttered down into the tiny, cramped mud hut in the middle of “the bush” in Africa.  I was standing on holy ground.  While it is normally interpreted under the context of death, a Gospel passage I recently read sprung to mind.  “And Jesus said unto him, ‘verily I say to you, today you shall be with me in paradise’” (Luke 23:43).  I felt the weight of Christ’s words in that moment.  It felt to me like I was in paradise.  Being in this place that I love so much, with these children that I love so much, paying tribute to all the glorious possibilities of the beginning of a human life, was absolutely perfection to me.  It’s not so surprising, though, is it, that a passage about the end of life brought to mind the beginning of it?  They are so intrinsically connected. 

A BIG Miracle?

Time-wise, we are never so close to Heaven as the moments we enter and leave this world.  A spiritual paradox, the time when a person leaves Heaven to become born on Earth is universally acknowledged as the most joyful time there is, while a loved one returning Home (after an arduous human journey) is seen as one of the saddest times.  You would think people would “prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8) but since this is the only world we know, that’s usually not the case, especially for the loved ones left behind.  The pain involved in letting go of someone we cherish can be unbearable.  I had to witness this unspeakable pain in our kids for the second time in a week when Mary died.  Mary was a rock star of a woman with several children I am close with who are involved in our school/church/oratory/community.  When we heard the news it simply came as “Mariam’s mother died”.

By the time I found out, the body had been moved to a church so we rushed right over (community support is everything, people are what matter; the rest of my classes for the day would just have to ‘suffer’ through a free study period).  The experience was very different from when Nora’s mother died, and if you’re interested in the cultural details of what went on, dear reader, I’ll be happy to explain via email, but this post isn’t about that aspect.  After consoling the children for a couple of hours, and shedding several tears myself, I was gazing forlornly at the ground when an outstretched hand appeared under my face.  When I looked up to see who was greeting me, I came face-to-face with the living dead.  I blinked several times and stared in utter disbelief right into the face of, you guessed it, Mary herself.  It gave a whole new meaning to Jesus’ proclamation that “[s]he that believes in me, though [s]he were dead, shall live” (John 11:25). “Why isn’t everyone else reacting to this?” I thought.  “Why aren’t 200 people celebrating that she’s alive right now?  Or is this her ghost appearing only to me?”  I’ve witnessed an inestimable number of small miracles here, but this would be the one to top all miracles.  No such luck.  Long story short, apparently Mariam is actually the biological daughter of another one of her father’s wives (the people are polygamous), despite the fact that she lives with Mary’s family.  Big mistake to make, but actually understandable in this culture.

What a difference it is between someone being “dead” one minute and alive the next!   …But how much of a difference is it really?  After the whole experience, I was reading about the mortality of man and came across an intriguing quote from Romans – “If we live, we live to the Lord; and if we die, we die to the Lord. So whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord” (14:8).  Certainly something for me to ponder more deeply.

The End.

¹ Background: Last year, Joice was my student in P5, the leader of the Daughters of Mary, and a very promising football player.  Then she disappeared for the same reason droves of young girls in South Sudan drop out of primary school – she got pregnant.  There is no adoption and no support for a girl to remain in school or get a job, so when she gets pregnant, she becomes a full-time, stay-at-home, usually unwed mother, and that’s it.  In my time here, I’ve heard story after story of home abortions done to “escape” this reality, and it absolutely breaks my heart every time.  Sitting next to Joice, I was struck by her strength accepting her new role and the grace that surrounded her.  I was profoundly touched by how grown-up she felt to me.  Ten years my junior, this girl exuded Motherhood.  I thanked God for the gift of her to this world and to the new baby girl she brought into it.  The Bible speaks much better than I can about the perfection of her motherhood.  The same passage seems a fitting reflection for me on these last 7 days here in South Sudan -->

“This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to His voice, and hold fast to Him. For the Lord is your life.” (Deuteronomy 30:19-20).  (Credit to Miss Rondon for calling up this passage for me to read in her blog and apply to my own recent experiences).